


Seven Minutes

by BullySquadess



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Seven Minutes In Heaven, adrien's donger is briefly there, but like, it could probably be rated t, its just makeouts tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:50:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BullySquadess/pseuds/BullySquadess
Summary: Post-Reveal, Adrien and Marinette continue to play chicken with their feeling. Alya, however, has other games in mind...





	Seven Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for @Lunian/@Sinnian on tumblr, based off their lovely art (http://sinnian.tumblr.com/post/162638239471/alya-and-nino-didnt-really-think-these-two-will).
> 
> Big thanks to @DarkReyna16 and @Breeeliss for helping me plug some holes! <3

Marinette was going to kill Alya for talking her into this situation. Slowly, and in a very personal way.

It was one thing for Alya to weasel out Marinette’s guilty fantasies surrounding Adrien- a.k.a. cute crush turned irresistible beefcake in the span of only five years. It was quite another for Alya to then force those sexy daydreams (that were never meant to see the light of day!) to actually _happen in real life._  

In public, no less!

It was third, even more unfathomable thing for her to shove Marinette face-first into a closet with said irresistible beefcake, the click of the lock and her manic, half-drunk laugh echoing through the tiny space as Marinette stood there like an idiot. A tipsy, dressed-scantily-for-a-party idiot radiating nothing short of pure  _want_ for the young man sandwiched in there with her.

“Hey there,” Adrien whispered into the dark, waving that unfairly cute wave of his. The one that always punched her square in the gut with a concentrated burst of “you’ve got it bad sis”.

“Hey yourself,” Marinette replied, somehow managing to sound aloof and playful despite the heat creeping along the back of her neck.

 _God_  she should have drank more earlier. Another glass of wine, at least.

Seven Minutes in Heaven… what a stupid thing to get worked up about! So what if she briefly had to share a small space with Adrien? They were almost twenty for chrissakes, and had been getting all up in each other’s personal space for years now. Besides, it’s wasn’t like anything was going to  _happen._

Six months had passed since Ladybug and Chat Noir had revealed themselves to each other, and while she and Adrien had certainly grown to be close friends in that time, he’d made it  _exceedingly obvious_  he wasn’t looking to be any more than that. He didn’t bring hand-picked wildflowers to their patrols any more, or recite Ladybug-themed love poetry between dodging akuma attacks. He didn’t posture or flirt or do any of the silly, overly-romantic things she’d come to associate with her partner. Marinette couldn’t even recall the the last time he’d attempted to kiss her hand, and as selfish as it was (especially after her five years of sidestepping his every advance) she mourned the loss of affection.

But life was life and that’s how things went. She’d missed her window to return Adrien’s feelings, and she couldn’t blame him for moving on.

“I’ll admit,” Adrien began, breaking the tense silence. “I never thought this sort of stuff happened outside of movies.”

“I never thought this sort of stuff still happened after middle school,” Marinette grumbled in reply, her nerves making the words come off harsher than intended.

Silence fell again, broken only by the muffled sound of dance music and the distant boom of Nino’s subwoofers. Adrien scuffed his toe into the carpet. Marinette cleared her throat.

“We don’t have to….  _do it_ , right?” she asked, wincing at how timid the words came out. Like she was some cootie-averse schoolgirl rather than a mature young lady trying desperately not to climb her friend like a fir tree.

She spared a glance in Adrien’s direction, hoping the unadulterated awkwardness wasn’t so clearly written on her face, but the moment they made eye contact she dropped her head and started muttering curses to herself, leaving Adrien to frown at her hesitation.

Logically, he knew Marinette probably didn’t hate the idea of spending seven minutes in heaven with him. They were friends after all- great friends since their reveal -and if nothing else they could just talk and joke until time was up.

…Still, she’d probably been looking forward to coming in here with someone she actually liked. Not the goofy partner she had no such feelings for.

(He’d been so careful these past few month, so adamant in his decision to lay off on the flirting. There’d been no more pet names, no more grandiose gestures-  nothing to make Marinette feel as if he expected anything more of her. Crush or no crush, the last thing he wanted was to make his Lady uncomfortable, but  _God_  it was so difficult not to woo her.)

Adrien’s heart seized with a familiar ache- until he forcibly shook the feeling off. He was at a party. Socializing. Drinking. He was spending the next seven minutes with his favorite bug, “heavenly” or not,  so the moping would just have to wait.

“Yeah,” Adrien answered, hoping Marinette couldn’t see his pinched expression.“If we…”

Words. There were definitely supposed to be more words coming out of his mouth.

But Marinette chose that exact moment to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, glancing up with eyes too bright and cheeks too dark for his sanity to bear, and his train of thought went careening off the tracks.

It didn’t help that she’d stepped slightly forward, parting her lips in a way that must have been unintentional. Surely she didn’t mean to look that inviting. Surely Adrien had to be imagining the flush of her face, the way her needy gaze seemed locked on his mouth.

…Right?

“If we don’t… want to…” he repeated in a murmur, so transfixed by the subtle plea in her eyes that he hardly noticed himself take a step a step forward.

It was impossible to pinpoint what set it off.

One moment, they were both just staring at each other, engaging in the same silent game of chicken as they always had. The next, Adrien was hooking an arm around his Lady’s waist, chucking years of inhibitions out the window and hauling her in for kiss

The sudden contact made her jolt, and for a moment he panicked, thinking maybe he’d misread her cues, but then Marinette’s hand was desperately winding through his hair, yanking his face closer to where her lips parted against his own, and all that doubt seemed to melt on their twining tongues. 

She rolled to her tiptoes, throwing one arm over his shoulder and pressing their chests together until there existed no amount of unnecessary distance between them. Just heat and need and the mutual,  _overwhelming_ realization they’d both wanted this for some time now.

For Adrien, it felt like falling all over again.

For Marinette, it was taking flight.

Groaning into the kiss, Adrien lifted her up like she weighed  _nothing_  (not surprising considering he’d lifted buses as Chat Noir before), and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. She hummed in appreciation when his hands found her ass, then gasped in delight as he shoved her back against the wall- careful enough to make her heart stutter but passionate enough to make a very different part of her body  _throb._

Still, she delivered a sharp nip to Adrien’s lip in retribution, as if to tell him he wasn’t the only one who could play it rough.  _‘Impress me,’_ her wandering hands challenged, winding into that luscious, tuggable hair.  _‘Show your Lady what you’ve got.’_

Thankfully, Adrien- her wonderful, observant,  _stupidly sexy_  partner -got the hint. One moment he was running his hands up underneath her tanktop, pulling back just far enough to breathe across her parted lips, and in the next moment he was dragging his nails down the length of her spine, capturing her earlobe between his teeth and biting.

 _“Ah~!_ ” Marinette whimpered, surprised and thrilled by the sudden influx of pain/pleasure. Her spine snapped straight, her toes curled, and her hips rocked of their own accord… then bucked a second,  _intentional_  time when they came in contact with something much harder than simple denim.

Adrien let out a moan of his own, fingers balling in the hem of her shirt and kiss-roughened voice reverberating deliciously in her ear. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, tugging at her top for clarification. He pulled back, perhaps to look her in the eyes, but Marinette was already vigorously nodding, raising her arms above her head so he could pull the garment all the way off.

“Y-yeah,” she replied, clearing her throat just as her tank top cleared her head “Very okay.”

Even in the low light she could see Adrien dazzling- no,  _dazzled_  smile. He held such gentle eye contact with her, his gaze the perfect mix of heat and appreciation, that Marinette could almost begin to believe this meant as much to him as it did to her. In fact, it wasn’t until she’d lowered her arms back around his shoulders that Adrien’s eyes dipped below her face, his smile growing impossibly more fond.

“Cute bra,” he quipped, thumb rubbing along her underwire. Marinette scoffed through a giggle.

“You can’t even see it properly. How do know it’s cute?”

Adrien shrugged, leaning forward until the tips of their noses met. “Because any bra would be cute on you…”

Call her overly-sentimental, but Marinette nearly swooned when he hoisted her hand up between their faces, feathering a soft kiss along each knuckle. It’d been so long,  _six whole months_  since he’d last given her that nostalgic gesture of affection. Marinette had honestly began to think she’d never get to feel it again.

Dizzy with joy, buzzing with anticipation, she nuzzled her way into the crook of his neck, placing soft, lapping kisses along every bit of skin she could find. She pecked, she teased, she whispered sweet pet names between every gentle press, and Adrien…

Well, to put it simply, Adrien  _melted_ , wishing they could stay like this forever.

“We don’t have much time,” he lamented, biting down hard on his lip when Marinette’s mouth found the sweet spot beneath his jaw.

(Incredible how they’d only just begun to learn each other’s bodies and she already seemed to know how to take him apart at the seams.)

Marinette hummed against his skin, sending another electric thrill down his spine. “Do you care?”

Her small deft hands, calloused from her hours spent sewing, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and Adrien was only too happy to let her lift it over his head.

“No,” he said, growing impossibly more flushed at the feeling of her pinned to his bare chest. “I don’t care at all…”

Marinette sighed happily, cupping his jaw and drawing him back to her lips. Her kiss was softer this time, slower, but no less extraordinary. In fact something about the sweet, halting notion of it shot pure giddiness in Adrien’s veins, until he was grinning so much he could do little more than peck at her mouth to get his affection across.

“Well that’s good,” Marinette giggled against his lips, smiling more with each playful kiss he feathered across their surface. “That just means we’ll have more to do later…”

Adrien stilled.

Later.

Marinette wanted them to do this again later. She wanted to touch him again-  _kiss him again_ -later. This wasn’t just some wine-buzzed encounter she’d shrug off in the morning, nor spur-of-the-moment encounter between friends. This… whatever they were doing, meant enough to Marinette that she already wanted to do it again.

Adrien suddenly decided he wasn’t  _nearly_  as close to her as he needed to be.

Marinette squeaked as he hitched her higher up his abdomen, then trailed into a broken, appreciative moan when his face dipped into the cleft of her cleavage. Patterning kisses along the soft curve of her chest, Adrien’s hand reconnected with her back. His fingers fumbled against the band of her bra for only a moment before it separated with a soft snap, and Marinette was quick to slip the garment off her shoulders, tossing it amongst the other clothes piled at the back of the closet.

 _‘Perfect,’_  is the word that popped into Adrien’s mind, then what his lips uttered as they descended upon her chest. He repeated the word between each reverent kiss, between each swirl of his tongue against her goosebump-ridden flesh. He whispered it against the taut peaks of her nipples, coaxed out by his careful attentions and worshiped by the heat of his mouth. He spelled it out with his tongue when Marinette (shaking and panting and telling him just how wonderful he felt) grabbed him by the hair and held him where she wanted him, over and over until her hips begged for  _more more please more please anything._

Marinette’s zipper was down and Adrien’s hand was half-beneath her shorts when Alya poked her head in.

“Alright Lovebirds,” she snickered, flipping on the closet light, “I hope you’re-”

“Leave!” Marinette and Adrien shrieked in tandem, the former using the latter to cover her bare torso and the latter desperately yanking his jeans up from where the former had shoved them down under the curve of his ass.

Frozen, Alya gulped, eyes darting first to the discarded clothes strewn across the floor, then to her two dangerously red friends, then to arm Adrien had incriminatingly wedged between their hips.

Looks like her plan had gone off a  _bit_  more successfully than intended…

“Whoops, don’t mind me! Just keep doing whatever you were doing okay have fun be safe bye!” she blurted, flicking off the light, turning on her heel, and shutting the doors tightly behind her.

The party seemed to pause as she rejoined it, dancing bodies stilling and pounding music fading to a background thrum. A dozen or so pairs of eyes instantly locked to hers, all asking the same silent question.

Alya cleared her throat. “We… uh… we’d better not interrupt them.”

The room  _exploded_  into applause, people hugging one another and drinks sloshing from their cups as toasts abounded. “Don’t tell me they’re doing it on my clothes!” Nino wailed through the chaos, eyeing the closet like he wanted to chase them out with a broom.

Adrien chose that moment to let out an especially loud moan.

“You wanna be the one to pull them off each other?” Alya countered, a steely glint in her eye. ‘This is what we’ve worked for’ her expression warned. ‘If you ruin this for me I will ruin your entire life.’

…Well, when Nino really thought about it, he’d trade a dirty pile of laundry for his best friends’ orgasms any day.

“Alright folks!” he chirped, pulling his phone from the speaker jack and gesturing for his guests to follow. “Let’s move this party to the living room, shall we?”

* * *

Almost an hour passed before Adrien and Marinette concluded their… *ahem*, business…. gathering their wits enough to redress and exit the closet. Blushing but satisfied, they embarked on their walk of shame hand-in-hand, prepared to face their inevitable roasting together.   **  
**

A great cheer rose above the music when the two slunk back to the party proper, and after enduring teases about red faces, mussed hair, and inside-out shirts, Alya declared the name of the game was forevermore changed to “Fifty-Seven Minutes in Heaven”, in honor of the day everyone’s ship sailed.


End file.
